


Mistlefoe

by Elleth



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: F/F, Kissing, Mistletoe, Play Fighting, Weird Viking Customs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8687728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: In Dalsnes, some old-world customs have acquired a peculiar flavour. Tuuri makes the best of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many many thanks to Kiraly for being the worstbest enabler and contributing some key ideas and bits of dialogue to this after finding [this tumblr post](http://vefanyar.tumblr.com/post/153785318115) that originally inspired the fic. :D (I have no idea how to reconcile this with the Norse myths involving mistletoe, but I suppose it could just be the pre-Rash custom that somehow took root in Dalsnes and then took a life of its own? You're welcome to work out whatever makes the most sense to you.) Many thanks to Yuu for the beta, too!

"I-is her… is her nose broken? I think her nose is broken," Tuuri said. She leaned back against Sigrun, feeling a little faint, but she couldn't take her eyes off the scene in the main doorway to the Dalsnes mead hall. One of Sigrun's fellow captains, short, compact and grinning like a feral thing, wiped the back of her hand across her face; her knuckles came away bloody. 

Sigrun didn't answer, raptly focused on the action. 

The woman bounced on the balls of her feet, ducked another swing, and punched her opponent - a taller, blonde woman - right in the solar plexus. Cheers erupted from the crowd of Vikings around them when she went down like a sack of rocks, only to come right back up for another swing, and the two of them continued to circle each other underneath the sprig of green that hung in the doorway. 

Sigrun was cheering with the rest of them, one arm wrapped around Tuuri's middle. She vibrated with energy. Tuuri was beginning to doubt her decision to surprise Sigrun in Dalsnes at Jul after their second mission into Denmark had concluded only three days in after a series of unfortunate circumstances that began with Mikkel dragging in a flu and and ended with Reynir submerging the tank in Copenhagen harbour. She preferred not to dwell on it. 

Until someone had put up the mistletoe, Dalsnes had been a great and more than that, a _satisfying_ distraction. Sigrun had made very sure of that. 

"Now watch, Fuzzy-Head. This is the best part!" 

The two women collided again. If it hadn't been for the crowd around her and not wanting to embarrass Sigrun in front of her team, Tuuri would have covered her eyes.

She didn't get to see what she expected, that one of them, or possibly both, would end up unconscious on the floor.

"They're… kissing?" Tuuri muttered. It felt like she'd taken leave of her senses. Maybe she'd had too much mead that night. Maybe they'd all had too much mead. Oh, and how they were kissing. They'd been savaging each other just a second ago, now the captain had seized her opponent by the lapels of her cloak and they were kissing fiercely, teeth gleaming white. When they broke apart, both their faces were blood-smeared. Both were grinning. The blonde woman's lip was bleeding, and her shirt had slid half up her side. 

Wolf-whistles joined the cheers from the crowd, and a rowdy chant in Norwegian took up. 

The two women linked hands and stood panting for a moment. A signal seemed to pass between them, both of them nodded. Then they took off into the night together, and the door swung open in a gust of cold wind behind them. Laughter, cheers and clapping rang after them, and slowly the crowd dispersed, back to their decked-out tables. 

Except for Sigrun, who didn't move, and who was in fact looking at the doorway with a gleam in her eyes that hit Tuuri like a bucket of icy water after sauna. 

"S-sigrun… no. Pl--- _eeee_???"

Sigrun's shove caught Tuuri off guard. It sent her stumbling into the doorway and didn't leave her much of a chance to protest unless she wanted the Vikings to pay attention to her predicament. When she made to run, Sigrun blocked her way. 

"Oh come on, Hot Stuff! Don't do that to me in front of my people! I told them all about how you clobbered that badger beast with the frying pan, I can't have you skip out of a fight now! Besides," Sigrun moved in conspiratorially with both her hands on Tuuri's shoulders, "I'll go gentle on you. Some punching, and then mouth-punching, that's all! It'd be keeping fit on top of getting the kissing fun, but with you? Easy-peasy. Now, arms up, Feisty, show me you haven't forgotten what I taught you!" 

Sigrun had taught her some things. At least, she'd tried. Tuuri had rather doubted the success of it; even when Sigrun had cheered her on it'd usually ended with Tuuri on the ground and Sigrun on top of her. 

She hadn't minded that so much. She hadn't minded that at all, actually, especially not the part that followed, when Sigrun patted her down and checked for bruises, and if she found any, she insisted on kissing them better. That'd been even after Mikkel had caught them and, with his face smothered into his palm, had lectured them both on the proper medical care for bruises. 

But an actual fight? Tuuri doubted she stood any chance at all. 

"D-do we… have to do it like that?" 

"Yep! No way around this now, it's the rules of the game! No backing out once you're under this!" Sigrun announced cheerfully. "Come on, give me a tough face, give me your best fighter face now!" 

Tuuri balled her fists, hoping that she remembered how to hold her fingers right to keep from breaking them, and pulled her shoulders up. She scowled. Fine. If Sigrun wanted a fight she'd get a fight. 

Sigrun whooped and hollered. "That's how it's done, that's my favourite feisty Finn!" Then she raised her voice another notch. _That_ , Tuuri thought, wincing and backing away from the sheer volume of it, was probably Sigrun's battlefield voice. Anyone would have heard it, even over the roar of a giant. 

"EVERYONE LISTEN UP, I'M GONNA FIGHT MY GIRLFRIEND!" 

Silence didn't so much fall in the mead hall, it dropped like a stone. Tuuri thought she could hear everyone's heads turning in expectation. Across the heads of the soldiers, and above the Captains' dais, where the Generals sat, Tuuri saw Sigrun's mother stifle a laugh. Sigrun's father looked pained. 

Sigrun seized Tuuri's hand and dragged it up. 

"ALRIGHT! NO RULES! BETS ARE OFF! _START!_ " 

Chairs and benches toppled when the entire hall scrambled to their feet to have a good look at the fight. 

Tuuri took a deep breath. Sigrun's first swing came slow, and she knew it wouldn't have hurt her very much, but it was slow enough to duck out of the way and gave her an opening to dart under Sigrun's arm, away from the entrance and into the mead hall proper. 

"Hey, Fuzzy, get back here!" 

Just the distance she needed. Maybe it was the alcohol making her brave, but Tuuri felt a grin come on, and launched into a run straight at Sigrun. 

Then she threw her weight forward and leapt. 

They'd both had mead. Sigrun had had more than her, and drinking made her reflexes just sluggish enough to be caught off-guard and lurch into the wall trying to steady herself. 

Tuuri winced when Sigrun slammed into the wooden panels with a dull thump and Sigrun's nose poked into her cheek, but a jolt went through her and she caught a glimpse of Sigrun's eyes widening when Tuuri's mouth came crashing down on hers. Tuuri could feel Sigrun's wonderful lips break into the widest possible grin as she slid down the wall to land on the floor and pulled Tuuri onto her lap, and her arms went close and strong and warm around her. She tasted of sweet mead and spice cakes.

They didn't speak for a while, and the mead hall faded into the background of Tuuri's awareness apart from the flickering golden candlelight glowing between her lashes. It was a dim roaring sound that eventually made Tuuri break away from kissing Sigrun - reluctantly, over the resistance of Sigrun's hand curled against the back of her head, and the other, roaming under her shirt - and look up into a half-circle of flushed Viking faces chanting the same rhyme they'd cheered on the other fighters with. 

Tuuri felt her face heat, but Sigrun gave her no chance to dwell on it when she proudly beamed up at her companions. "DID YOU SEE THAT? SHE PUNCHED ME IN THE MOUTH FAIR AND SQUARE! DO THAT AGAIN, FUZZY!" 

Cheers erupted when Tuuri did just that. 

Maybe, just maybe, she could get used to it.


End file.
